


Steal my Breath

by SnazzySterek



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dying Stiles, Hanahaki Disease, Happy Ending, Insecure Stiles Stilinski, Kinda, Lawyer Peter Hale, M/M, Near Death, Requited Love, Selfless Stiles, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-04-11 14:32:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19111633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnazzySterek/pseuds/SnazzySterek
Summary: Once he got home he pulled out the now slightly crumpled flower petal from his pocket. He smoothed it out looking down at the unassuming petal in front of him. The petal was so small and dainty going from a deep red at where it would supposedly connect with the flower to a light pink almost white. Stiles was suffering from Hanahaki Disease.In layman's terms, Stiles was suffering from a disease about unrequited love and he was going to die.





	Steal my Breath

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thecrasy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thecrasy/gifts).



> So this was so much fun! I was able to work with this AMAZING artist. She is absolutely amazing. So great! Check out her [Tumblr](https://thecrasy.tumblr.com/)  
> Anyway, Hope yall like it. I had such a fun time making it!

Stiles coughed wetly trying to dislodge something from the back of his throat. He had been sick for weeks now, it felt like something was stuck in his throat. Sometimes he was able to cough up stuff that looked like mucus but it never seemed to dislodge whatever was stuck in his esophagus. Stiles rubbed at his chest, a dull ache that was constantly there, growing stronger. He had been to his doctor at the beginning of the week but they couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong with him. According to the doctor, he was perfectly healthy. He didn’t know why this was happening to him.

 

His alarm startled him out of his thoughts, signaling him, he had to leave to get to the pack meeting. Stiles rushed out the door, flinging himself into the jeep. His weird health issues the last thing on his mind.

* * *

  
Stiles walked into the pack meeting. Looking around, he saw that he was the last person to arrive. Although he already knew that from the cars evident but one could hope that he wasn’t going to be late for once. His eyes landed on Peter standing on the stairs. His chest ached. The older man looked so put together, he always did. He was always so cunning and charming and he just oozes confidence. There was no way Stiles wasn’t going to fall in love with Peter. It was inevitable.

 

Stiles ripped his gaze away from the ‘wolf when his intense blue eyes met his. His face flushing in embarrassment. He tried so hard to hide his massive crush on Peter Hale. Since he had gotten over Lydia he realized just how creepy he was. Stiles was one of those people who loved with his whole being but to the outside world, it would seem like an obsession. While Lydia his love did get twisted a bit too much, he ended up putting her on a pedestal he still was someone who always fell hard and fell fast. He usually fell too fast, thus making those around him and the person of his affections uncomfortable and turned off from him. He didn’t want to do that to Peter. Stiles didn’t want Peter to ever feel uncomfortable around him. Stiles always did fall for people who would never love him back. But this time around he wasn’t going to push his feelings onto Peter. He never wanted someone to be that uncomfortable around him ever again.

 

So he kept his feelings to himself, he would take them to the grave.

 

Stiles rubbed at his chest as he started coughing. His eyes started watering and he bent over trying to dislodge what was in the back of his throat. Hoping he could finally get it out. He pointed towards the kitchen and stumbled in that direction. His eyes blurring from unshed tears. Filling up a glass of water. As he was bent over in the kitchen sink his hand over his mouth when something finally landed in his hand. He looked down to see a red flower petal laying innocently in the palm of his hand. It was small and red and entirely unassuming. If Stiles hadn’t just coughed it up he wouldn't have thought anything strange. It was just a plain red petal.

 

“You good Stiles?” Scott called from the other room.

 

“Yeah,” Stiles shouted back shoving the petal into his pocket and then shoving it to the back of his mind to think about later.

 

The feeling like something was lodged in his throat didn't leave him for the rest of the pack meeting. As if he still had more of the petals to cough up. He could barely focus on Scott trying to make a plan for whatever was plaguing their town. He didn’t really understand what had just happened. His mind was swimming with possibilities but he hadn't ever come across something like this in all of his research.

 

When the pack meeting ended he quickly said goodbye not staying after, for the movie like he usually did. He had to get home and figure out what was happening to him.

* * *

  


Once he got home he pulled out the now slightly crumpled flower petal from his pocket. He smoothed it out looking down at the unassuming petal in front of him. The petal was so small and dainty going from a deep red at where it would supposedly connect with the flower to a light pink almost white. It didn't really look like a flower he had come across before but then again Stiles didn't really know flowers.

 

Spinning around he faced his computer he got ready to start researching. He stared at the search bar trying to figure out what to search. What key-word would give him the answer? The blinking cursor almost taunting him. Slowly he started typing. He started with the most obvious question.

 

‘ _Why am I coughing up flowers’_

 

Stiles ignored everything that was on the first page of his google search having learned that it would be nothing useful for actual supernatural facts. He skipped to the third page of the google search trying to see if anything was useful or jumped out at him. Stiles mouse paused over a website, Japanese Hanahaki Disease. Without a second thought he clicked on it, the website felt right. He read through it quickly not really believing what he was seeing. It explained exactly what was happening even going a step further to explain what would happen next. Stiles couldn’t be suffering from hanahaki disease. He just couldn’t.

 

He printed out the page anyway.

 

The rest of the evening was spent hunched over his computer clicking through the different websites, all of them coming to the same conclusion. Stiles was suffering from Hanahaki Disease.

 

In layman's terms, Stiles was suffering from disease about unrequited love and he was going to die.

 

He pushed himself away from the computer feeling sick, rushing towards the bathroom he barely making it before his dinner made itself known outside of his body. He was there dry heaving for what felt like forever. He felt like he was on his way to a panic attack. He- this couldn't be real. It just couldn’t. He didn’t know what he could do.

 

Pushing himself away from the toilet he tried to calm himself down. He had to think rationally about this. Who was his unrequited love? Well, that was obvious it had to be Peter. But that also meant that his feelings for the man were a lot stronger than he wanted to think about. He thought that it was a simple crush. Well, that is what he told himself that it was. But he didn’t realize his feelings had developed that strongly. Did Stiles really not know himself at all? Stiles buried his face into his hands, his breathing harsh. Shaking his head he felt tears prick at the corner of his eyes.

 

This could not be happening. It would be just his luck that he would love someone who was so uninterested in him that he would end up getting a mythological Japanese disease because of it. This was not what he wanted his life to be like. He had wanted to maybe show Peter that he was a grown-up, woo him a little. He wasn’t even thinking that Peter would ever like him back but he had hoped. Had hoped that one day, maybe Peter would. But now that all flew out the window. Now he could never tell Peter, never tell anyone. If what the websites said was true then eventually the pack would know. He wouldn’t let the prospect of him dying force Peter’s hand. He knew the older man. Knew that Peter would give anything for the pack but it wouldn’t be real and if it wasn’t real it wouldn’t stop the disease.

 

He was destined to die and he didn’t want to. He was somewhat happy for once. Life was actually going well and this stupid disease had to come in and ruin everything. He was almost done with College and everything besides his love life was going his way and it just went up in smoke.

 

Stiles always thought he was unlovable but it was like this disease was bringing every insecurity he had about relationships to the forefront. He was so unlovable that it manifested into this.

 

Stiles' head banged against the wall. What was he going to do?

* * *

 

Stiles must have fallen asleep at some point in the bathroom because the next thing he knew his dad was shaking him awake. His body hurt all over from the uncomfortable sleeping position.

 

“Hey son, you okay?” His dad's face was pinched in concern.

 

“Not really,” Stiles answered truthfully.

 

He didn’t want to answer truthfully, didn’t want his dad to worry but they had a rule. That no matter what they weren’t allowed to hide how they were feeling. It was some BS that their family therapist said but it surprisingly did help their relationship a bit.

 

“Anything I can do?”

 

“No.”

 

Stiles stood up walking past his dad towards his bedroom. He was exhausted and all he wanted to do was sleep. Maybe tomorrow, when he woke up all of this, would be a dream.

* * *

  


He woke up to violent coughing. His eyes tearing up, burning in the back of his throat. After a few minutes, he was able to finally stop coughing. He rubbed his chest before standing up and going about his morning. He tried to put what was happening out of his mind. Stiles didn’t want to believe this was happening.

 

His feelings for Peter were not _this_ serious

 

His breathing quickened and panic started to creep up his throat. He shook out his hands, taking a deep breath. He had to act normal. It wasn’t that serious. He would get through this

With his short pep talk, he walked out the door. He was glad he didn’t really have much to do today except for some research over at Derek’s. Thankful that it was summer so he didn’t have classes.

 

When he arrived he noticed that the only cars there were Derek’s and Peter’s. While not surprising he had some sort of false hope that the rest of the pack would be there. Not that they usually came to research days but he was hoping for some distance between him and Peter. He didn’t want to deal with this stupid disease and what it meant for his feelings. He wanted to be in denial for a little while longer.

 

Stiles took a final deep breath before walking up the stairs to Derek’s loft. Swinging open the steel door he saw Peter and Derek hunched over a table. The table was filled with stacks of books, both the men's laptops open beside them.

 

“Well hello Stiles, nice of you to finally join us.” Peter drawled out, not even looking up from the book he was reading.

 

“Hey, at least I come” Stiles snarked back, throwing his hands out in a ‘what ya gonna do’ manner.

 

He felt a flare of pain in his chest but he tried his best to ignore it, plopping down on the chair next to Derek. Derek looked up at him, his eyebrows raised in question. Stiles knew the silent question Derek was asking him. _Why was Stiles sitting next to him?_

 

Stiles shrugged in response. Not really able to think of a response that wouldn’t lead to the truth. He wanted space from Peter, couldn’t deal with his own feelings. Even though it was literally an extra two feet from where he usually sat, it was still two feet extra feet.

 

Stiles ducked down pulling out his laptop, his stomach in knots. Booting it up he focused on research. Trying to ignore the world around him.

 

They researched for hours like that. In companionable silence. The only thing breaking it was the clacking of a keyboard or frustrated muttering. Stiles basically entered a sort of trance. It was his favorite thing about having ADHD. The hyperfocus, the ability to go for hours researching one thing and not able to stop until the answer was found. It calmed him in a way that nothing else was able too. Sure not everything he researched had the same effect but today it was a blessing from the rest of his life's problems.

 

His came out of his daze hours later when he could no longer ignore his stomach.

 

“Do you have any food?” He asked as he walked over to the kitchen.

 

He didn’t hear a response from either man at the table. Not that Stiles was really expecting one. Stiles shrugged as he went searching through Derek's cabinets, pulling out ingredients to make tacos. Stiles was relieved to finally be alone. While they didn’t really interact it still made him antsy. He still hadn’t gotten used to research with people. It was hard, he felt like he was either too into the research where the rest of the world didn’t matter or not enough where he couldn’t concentrate on anything and was more of a hindrance than a help.

 

“What are you making”

 

The sound of Peter’s voice made him jump. His head hitting the top of the cabinet. Pain blooming on where his head had connected with the wood. He reached up, rubbing to try and asauge the pain. Turning around to face Peter.

 

“Jesus Christ, you need to wear a bell!”

 

“You need to be more observant.” Peter drawled back, “Guess we both have things we want that won't come true.”

 

Stiles rolled his eyes in response, “I’m making tacos if it's anything to you.”

 

“Make enough for me” was all Peter said before turning his heal and walking out of the kitchen.

 

Stiles sagged at the kitchen counter. His shoulders slumped. Why did he love that man? Why did Stiles always go for the completely unattainable? Not even just unattainable but also the people who clearly saw him as so much lesser than them. Obviously, he never learned from Lydia. Clearly, he could only fall for people who would never love him back. He is literally suffering from a disease of unrequited love. How much sadder can his love life get? The truly sad thing was is Stiles didn’t even blame Peter. It isn’t Peter’s fault that Stiles can't seem to fall for people who will love him back. He apparently loves Peter so much that he is growing flowers in his lungs. His love will literally be the death of him.

 

“You okay Stiles, I don't hear cooking!” Peter called out.

 

“Y-yeah” Stiles shook his head trying to get back on track with food.

 

As he cooked his mind couldn’t help but wonder. His research the night before on hanahaki was not exactly an inspiration of hope. The ‘cure’ for it was not something he actually wanted to do. There were only really three cures. The first one Stiles knew was a pipe dream, Peter loving him back. That was never going to happen. He knew how Peter saw him, as some ADHD riddled kid from back in high school. Peter didn’t see him as an adult more of a thing to play with. Not something that the other man could love back. Stiles understood that the age difference probably didn’t help. Stiles was 15 years younger than Peter. Of course, Peter only saw Stiles as a child. It didn’t matter that Stiles hadn’t truly been a child since his mom got sick but that didn’t mean anything to the people around him. He was always seen as the least mature person in his friend group. Stiles really didn’t blame Peter. Stiles was not only seen as immature but he was also only two years older than the man’s daughter. So he understood that that cure avenue was out. That he wouldn’t be cured by Peter loving him back. The other two were something he personally would never choose to go down. Either he had to cut out all the flowers and vines that are growing in his lungs. But doing that removes his emotions. His research didn’t specify whether or not it would remove just his love for Peter or all of his emotions but either way he wasn’t going to do it. His feelings made him human, made him Stiles. Stiles has always been someone who felt things deeply. Never shying away from emotions that could hurt that would hurt. His emotions were such a big part of him, of his soul, he wouldn’t give them up. He wasn’t Stiles if his emotions were stripped away. The last, Stiles already shot down before even giving it any thought. He would have to kill Peter. He wasn’t going to do it. Peter is the love of his life. No matter how much hurt and suffering he is about to go through because of his love it didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to kill Peter. He just wasn’t.

 

Stiles shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He assembled the taco’s making his and Peters. When he looked down he saw what he put into the tacos. He was working completely on autopilot and didn’t realize he put food in the tacos that Peter loved. Stiles didn’t even like half the things. His subconscious had made the decision to make Peter’s favorite over his own. How far gone was he on the man?

 

Stiles started to cough violently. He stumbled trying to catch himself on the counter. Doubling over he couldn’t catch his breath. Could barely inhale in between the violent coughs that racked his body. His vision blurred with tears. He felt something in the back of his throat. _No not now_ he thought _._ He was gagging in between coughing, his body trying to eject the flower petals Stiles knew were stuck there.

 

He saw through blurred vision Derek and Peter rushing into the room. Stiles stumbled, falling over onto the ground as he tried to signal he was fine. He was doubled over on his hands and knees coughing. He felt someone hitting him square in the back, trying to help him get whatever was choking him out. After what felt like forever the petals fell out of his mouth. Two petals, lying on the tile, terrifying and earth-shattering.

 

“Stiles” Derek started carefully pulling Stiles up to stand.

 

Peter handed Stiles a glass of water. Stiles couldn’t even look at either of the other men in the room. His eyes locked onto the flower petals on the floor. He felt defeated. This proved even more that it was true. Stiles had held onto some naive hope that he was making it up. But Derek and Peter were witnesses. They saw what happened and it just makes it that the more real.

 

Stiles drank the water slowly.

 

“What was that?” Derek questioned.

 

“Um… well, it kinda just started to happen a bit ago.” Stiles started then stopped not really wanting to share anything.

 

“You coughed up flowers Stiles,” Peter stared hard at the younger man, his voice harsh, “Do you know what that means?”

 

Stiles head jerkily nodded. He felt chastised by Peter. Like he was a child getting scolded by a parent. Of course, he knew what this meant, Stiles didn’t exactly like not knowing things.

 

“What does it mean?” Derek asked confused.

 

“It's a Japanese love disease,” Stiles mumbled, twisting his fingers anxiously.

 

“A what?” Derek’s head whipped back in surprise.

 

Stiles shrugged, defeated, “Yeah, it basically happens when unrequited love is so strong that it tries to kill you. I um-I think the nogitsune is why I am able to even have it.”

 

Stiles shouldered past the two men. He bent down scooping up the petals before heading to the table. He wasn’t hungry anymore. He wanted to go home but they also had the ‘big bad of the week’ to take care of. So what if he is dying that doesn’t give him an excuse to stop doing what he can to protect people. Stiles picked up the book he was reading, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

 

“We need to talk about this,” Derek stated, his tone of voice was clear, there would be no debate on the subject.

 

“There is nothing to talk about that I haven’t already thought of Derek.”

 

“Well maybe we can- There has to be a cure!” Derek urged.

 

“They aren't cured to me,” Stiles stated wearily, exhausted, going back to his book.

 

The sound of a book thudding on the table grabbed Stiles attention.

 

“Here you go, Derek. This is a book on hanahaki disease. Well, a chapter. There are options Stiles just too stubborn and scared to go through with them. He very clearly needs to grow up and think pragmatically” Peter’s voice twisting cruelly around Stiles.

 

Stiles tried to ignore Peter’s words. Trying to focus on the book before him. He knew what Peter thought of him, so what if his thoughts were reaffirmed by the man's words. It didn’t matter. Obviously, the other man didn’t think of him like anything except the child everyone saw him as. There was a reason Stiles is suffering from a disease literally about unrequited love.

 

An hour passed in silence. The comfortable mood from earlier was gone. Everyone was more subdued and somber. None of the silent companionship. Stiles felt sick knowing it was his fault. He had been hoping to hide this from the pack. Hide this especially from the Hales. They didn’t deserve this. They had already lost to much pack. Stiles didn’t want to be added to their list. And to make matters worse, the Hales are getting a warning. Warning of his death, warning the future is imminent. There is no getting better for Stiles. It sucks and it isn't fair but when has life ever been fair to Stiles.

 

“There are cures” Derek stated tersely, anger evident in his voice, “ Why would you tell me there wasn’t one.”

 

“I remember my exact words being that they weren't cures to me.” Stiles countered.

 

“What do you mean? Just tell the person and then it will be fine.” Derek urged.

 

“You want me to _tell_ the person,” Stiles whole body jerked in surprise, “ Your optimism is getting a little like Scott’s, you better watch yourself, Derek. Yeah, I can totally see that going well. This whole thing is based on unrequited Derek. This person while they may be the love of my life I don't mean anything to them! Do you understand that? I am nothing in their eyes. I don't matter to them. There isn’t an ounce of romantic interest on their side. My love is too great and too one side that no matter what I do they won’t love me. And while we are on the subject of telling them. That would force their hand into a relationship with me. It would be an obligation to try and love me. But you know what it wont work and I won't do that to them. I have too much respect for them to ever put them in a position where they don't have the power to leave the relationship.”

 

Stiles was breathing heavy. Panic creeping up his throat. His emotions were haywire, he felt strung out and exhausted. The entire time he had to hold back saying Peters name. He knew the other man. How much he valued pack how much he wanted to protect it. How much Peter really didn’t want to lose any more pack mates. Peter would give up his own happiness for Stiles. For the pack, he would do anything and that's one reason Stiels is head over heels for the man.  
  
Stiles violently started coughing, he threw his head in between his legs. Trying to force the petals out faster. Minutes passed of struggling to breath in between the coughing fit. A flower petal landing in his hand finally. A glass of water appearing in his vision.

 

“Well, at least I know a pattern,” Stiles spoke after sucking down the water.

 

“What do you mean?” Peter questioned.

 

“The petals. They only appear when I think of hi-them” Stiles shoved the petal in his pocket with the others.

 

“Well, that makes sense since they are the cause. I do want to bring up the obvious but what are we going to tell the pack. It's quite clear you can't hide this Stiles.” Peter spoke, his voice ringing the truth.

 

Stiles shrugged. He knew what Peter was saying was right but he still didn’t want the pack to know. The more people that knew, would make it easier for people to figure out that Peter was the object of his affection. Peter finding out would be the worst outcome. It would be the absolute worst thing to come out of this disease.

 

“Stiles we should tell them.” Derek urged, a comforting hand gripping the back of his neck.

 

“I-I know.” Stiles shoulders slumped in on themselves, “I just really don't want to.”

 

“Its one of the pack members isn’t it?” Peter asked like it was the most logical conclusion.

 

Stiles' heart stuttered. Obviously, it makes sense that Peter would come to that conclusion. Stiles didn’t exactly have many friends outside the pack. It was difficult to with the life that he lived. It wasn’t easy to explain all the canceled plans because something was trying to kill him or the pack needed him. His prospects for other people he was in love with were small.

 

Stiles gave a minute nodded. He felt small and embarrassed and just absolutely at a loss of what to do. He was so used to knowing what to do but now he had no plan, no idea what he was supposed to do.

 

“Well that leaves killing them out of the equation,” Peter spoke.

 

All Stiles could do was a nod. He didn’t want to do anything anymore. He just wanted to go home and be with his dad.  
  
“Um I’m just going to go home,” Stiles mumbled, standing up walking towards the door, “I can do research from home. I'll text you guys.”

 

“Stiles wait,” Derek shouted

 

“I-I have to talk to my dad Derek. Its getting worse and fast I have to tell him.” Stiles spoke softly, exhausted and reluctant for the conversation he was going to have with his dad.

 

“Call me if you need me” Derek gripped the back of Stiles' neck pulling him into a brief hug. Giving him the comfort as his alpha. Support, something he can lean on.

* * *

  


Stiles doesn’t really remember the drive home. He remembers his shaking hands and his heavy breathing. The anxiety and turmoil swirling inside his head. He doesn’t want to tell his dad but knows he needs to. He needs his dad.

 

Walking through the door, he was so grateful that his dad hadn’t left for work yet and was instead relaxing in front of the tv.

 

“Stiles whats wrong,” His dad's worried voice broke through the anxious thoughts in his head.

 

He didn’t see his dad get up.

 

“Dad-” Stiles started, “I- I’m going to die.”

 

A sob ripped out of his throat. His dad's arms enveloped him. The tears and panic he had been holding back coming full force. Just for a second, he would be a kid in need of comfort. Just a few minutes where he could cry and didn’t need to be strong. He felt lost in waves like he was drowning and his dad was the only thing able to give him a little air.

 

“What do you mean kiddo?” His dad asked once he calmed down some.

 

“I- Well you know how I like someone. Well apparently- I uh so with the nogitsune and the japanese thing made me susceptible to uh- an ancient love disease. Like my love is ‘pure and true’ like what does that even mean. But uh it makes flowers grow in my lungs. There isn’t really a cure. Well not really one I wanna do or are realistic. I am going to suffocate to death. Right now I only cough up flower petals when I think of him but it's going to get worse, I won't be able to stop it. The only way I could see this getting better was if he loved me but this is an unrequited love disease. He doesn’t and he won't ever. I just don't know what to do.” Stiles rambled anxiously twisting his fingers, he felt the panic bubble back up. A sob waiting to be released.

 

“We are going to figure this out.” His dad pulled him into a hug rubbing his back while Stiles broke down crying again.

 

* * *

 

A week went by of texting Derek and Peter and avoiding the pack. He went to work, came home, researched until he was exhausted. It was a rinse and repeat. He also was able to hang out more with his dad. Since his impending doom, his dad was home more than he had ever been. They both tried to squeeze as much time as they could, knowing their days were numbered. Stiles knew his dad still hoped for a cure but Stiles wasn’t as optimistic.

 

Stiles slammed his hands angrily on his desk. This wasn’t working. His line of sight landed on the jar at the corner of his desk. Throughout the past week, petals kept being coughed up. He started to keep them in a jar at the corner of his desk. It was a reminder that not only he was real but his love was. It was also a reminder of just how little time he had. A ticking clock to his death. He couldn’t sit here and do nothing. If he was going to die he had to get his affairs in order.

 

He had been handling the bills of the household since he was 10. He had to figure out how to make sure that they still got paid after he left. Stiles just knew his dad would go off the rails. He had to make sure someone was there to check on him. He also had to figure out a way for his dad to get his trust money from his mom’s side of the family. That the money would go to his father not some relative he hadn’t seen in years. There was also his car and he should see if he can get a life insurance policy or something. The house was also technically in his name. Stiles had taken over the house when he turned 18. Not that his dad knew that detail. Stiles had already been paying most of the bills anyway and it made it easier for the house to be in his name then his dads. Stiles didn’t know how he got his dad to agree but then again Stiles had moved all the other bills into his name what was one more.

 

He had to create a will. Make sure things went to his dad. Then rework his father's will because the way things were going Stiles was not going to out live his dad.

 

He needed a lawyer.

 

Pulling up google he looked up where the nearest estate lawyers were. Stiles' eyes widened in surprise when the first lawyer to pop up was Peter Hale. _Crap._ He should not contact Peter. Peter cannot be the one to do this. But Peter was also packing. He is in the know he wouldn’t question why a 22 year-old needed to draft up a will.

 

 _Well, what do I have to lose?_ Stiles grabbed his phone and dialed up Peter’s number.

 

“What do I owe this call Stiles? You’ve been avoiding the pack.” Peter’s drawl ringing through the phone.

 

“I- uh was actually calling to hire you.” Stiles stuttered out.

 

He hated how Peter made him just completely lose his cool. Revert back to the stuttering rambling teen he used to be.

 

“Hire me?” The older man questioned, “What for?”

 

“To make me a will or something. Aren’t you an estate lawyer?” Stiles questioned his knee bouncing up and down in anxiety. He bit at the tip of his thumb.

 

“Yes, Stiles. Now, why would a young man like you have anything that needs to go into a will.” Peter’s patronizing voice rung through.

 

Stiles gave a frustrated groan. Why did he love this man? Oh right besides the man's sarcasm Peter was actually an amazing guy.

 

“I have things. Like a house and a trust fund and- and I need life insurance. Okay, I need to get things ready. I. am. Dying. Peter, I am I need to-I can't leave my dad with nothing.” Tears started to well up, Stiles hit his leg trying to get control of his emotions. He couldn’t lose it, he had to get control.

 

“Okay, Stiles. Breathe. I’ll help, of course, I’ll help.” Peter consoled.

 

“Do you want to come by later. We can talk about everything. I don't really know how to do this.” Stiles rambled

 

“Yeah, I'll come by. See you soon Stiles.”

  
Stiles said a quick goodbye. His head slumped between his shoulders. His chest hurt. He felt like he was thrust into the deep end and he didn’t know how to swim. He could feel the petals at the back of his throat wating to choke him. Waiting for him to cough them up. To keep coughing until he stops breathing. There was no stopping it and no mater how dumb it was his love for Peter hasn’t waned. The man was perfect for him. A snarky asshole who didn’t care for anyone except pack. Peter while not an honerable man he was someone you could trust to always have your back. Stiles knew Peter would go to the ends of the world for his pack. Would sacrifice anything for the pack. Peter was so cunning, was able to do anything he put his mind to. It also wasn’t a downside that Peter was the hottest person he had seen. All the Hales were attractive but Peter, his personality elevated his already good looks. A smirk looked best with his deep v neck tshirt and a smirk and cunning look in his eye.

 

Stiles wanted to climb him like a tree.

 

Stiles coughed violently. His eyes teared up he fell forward onto the floor. He coughed, he couldn’t breath. For minutes it went by. Just coughing until eventually, three petals came out of his throat. His vision cleared. He picked up the flower petals. He turned them over. That's when he noticed it. Blood.

 

He sat back on his feet. Blood wasn't good. It’s getting worse. At least they weren't full flowers yet. He probably has a few weeks, two months if he is lucky. The progression of this is fast. Takes people out quickly. Stiles grabbed the petals off of the floor and shoved them into the jar at the edge of his desk. Taking a deep breath he tried to calm himself down. _I can do this, I have a plan_ He thought. He would make sure that everything was taken care of. He was an adult and he would treat this as an adult.

 

Stiles spent the time waiting for Peter to arrive writing down everything he owned or thought  Peter might need to know. Pulling up documents on his computer and printing them out. After printing everything he moved to the kitchen table, trying to sift through everything. Creating piles. It was strange seeing his life put into four neat piles. It seemed so small and insignificant when Stiles looks at it that way.

 

The doorbell rang. Stiles shook his head, he needed to stay on track while Peter was here. Answering the door, he saw Peter in a suit. He must have clearly come over from work.

 

“Hey Peter, Come on in.” Stiles moved to the side walking into the house expecting Peter to follow, “So I already got some documents and things together I think we may need. I don't really know what goes into making a will, sorry.”

 

Stiles sat at the table in front of everything and looked up at Peter expectantly. The older man was stopped in his tracks at the entrance of the room. His eyes flitting around. Stiles didn’t understand why Peter had stopped. It wasn’t like Stiles actually did anything special or wrong, he just wanted to help. Peter seemed to shake himself out of whatever he was thinking and walked over to the table.

 

“Stiles, are you really this sure you are going to die? There are still chances that one of the betas could still love you, or learn. I could help, just tell me who it is?” Peter asked.

 

“Doesn’t matter Peter. Even if the person does end up loving me back, What if they don't. I don't exactly have a lot of time to make someone fall in love with me. And I am not about to force their hand. So can we focus.” Stiles shrugged turning towards the papers and adjusting the piles.

 

“Okay sure.”

 

Stiles showed Peter the documents of the house and the mortgages. His trust fund and he asked questions if there was a way for it to go to his dad. To automatically pay for the house and other miscellaneous bills. It was strange laying out his life in the way he was but he knew he had to do it. A few times they had to stop because Stiles got coughing fits. They were more frequent, probably because of the fact that Peter was around. It was hard to stay objective when the two of them were talking about Stiles dying because he loved Peter. Not that Peter knew Stiles was the object of his affections.

 

“I didn’t realize you controlled so much of your dad’s finances,” Peter stated, curiosity evident in his voice, although there was a hint of something else Stiles couldn’t place.

“Yeah, I have been doing the bills since I was like 10ish” Stiles shrugged, “Dad wasn’t able to so I did. And then when I turned 18 I took over officially. It's not a big deal.”

 

“It’s just surprising because most people your age don't have any of this figured out and you have an amazing organization of your bills and everything,” Peter spoke.

 

“You might wanna stop there that was basically a compliment.” Stiles laughed

 

He didn’t want to think too much deeper on the topic. Peter was being nice to him which was weird. Peter while never outright hostile he wasn’t exactly nice. Peter didn’t compliment Stiles ever. It made his heart soar and sink all at once. This didn’t exactly just mean Peter now liked him. He felt like he was going to puke. He knew that Peter didn’t like him. But the compliment felt like a little too much. He loved Peter so much and he couldn’t dwell on Peter being nice. Stiles would over think it and see it as something much more than it was. He was already starting too and he could not afford that. He would just be more heartbroken in the end. Peter did not love him. He just-couldn’t.

 

_Cough Cough_

 

Minutes went by, Stiles could feel Peter switching between rubbing his back and hitting him in between the shoulder blades. Eventually, two petals fell out of his mouth but he still didn’t stop coughing. He kept coughing and more petals kept coming. It felt like forever, petals just kept coming. Finally, the coughing stopped but tears still rolled down his cheeks. He could feel his heartbeat in his head. His throat burned and he could taste blood. Everything hurt so much.

 

“You okay? Peter asked

 

Stiles nodded, “I think I should lie down.”

 

Peter led Stiles over to the couch laying him down. He covered Stiles with a blanket. Stiles was out before the blanket even fully covered his body

* * *

 

Peter sat at the kitchen table trying to ignore the sleeping boy on the couch and focusing on the papers in front of him. His view of Stiles had shifted slightly. He didn’t realize just how adult the other man was. Sure Stiles was 22 but Peter hadn’t really been able to shake the view he had of Stiles when he was in highschool. This spastic, nosey kid who was too brave for his own good. Stiles and all of the pack were still children in his eyes because they acted like it. But looking in front of him at all the bills Stiles controls and how much he is trying to get his life in order it appears Stiles hasn’t been a kid for a long time. Stiles himself had told Peter that he had been taking care of the household bills since he was 10. What else has he been doing? It also made sense why he still lived at home unlike the rest of the pack who moved out of their parent's house, because he owned the house.

 

Peter turned his focus back onto the papers before him. He hadn’t been able to talk to Stiles one who exactly he wanted to leave things too. He knew the answer was probably his dad but right now Peter was Stiles attorney and he didn’t have either a written or spoken confirmation on if Stiles dad would be the sole heir to his assets.

 

Peter took some notes on all of Stiles assets so next time they got together the would be able to draft up Stiles Will. Peter left soon after that. Mulling over his changed attitude of Stiles in his head.

 

* * *

 

Stiles got worse fast from the day with Peter. He wasn’t hungry anymore, he was constantly nauseous. Everytime he tried to eat he would either puke it up or end up coughing up flowers. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. It had been a few days since Peter had been over and he had texted him to decide exactly who he wanted his assets to go to. He knew he probably just had to decide but Stiles never did anything halfway.

He was exhausted and achey. Sitting at his desk as he pulled out a piece of paper starting to map out a basic written will. He had researched a little bit on exactly how that would work. He would get Peter to draft up an actual will but at least here he would have everything he wanted to say written down. He looked up towards the jar. It was almost completely full. He had coughed up his first flower earlier this morning. Sure it was small and it looked unassuming but it was absolutely terrifying. It was a small pink little flower that was tinged with blood. It was all he could taste in his mouth for hours. He felt shaky and off kilter. He knew hanahaki was fast acting but knowing and actually living it were two different things.

 

The beeping of a timer from his phone went off. Time for a pack meeting. He had been avoiding them but now he was so close to dying he couldn't. Wouldn't avoid his friends. They deserved better than that. He walked downstairs hopign his dad was there. He didn't really feel up to driving and maybe his dad could. Walking downstairs the house was still and quiet.

 

Guess he was driving. He felt light headed and nauseous but he couldn’t miss this meeting. He drove to the loft, wasn’t entirely sure how he got there. He opened the door to the loft and the pack went quiet. Everyone was already there, Stiles tried not to think too much on the meaning of their silence. He knew exactly what was running in their head. Walking through the room he fell onto an open spot on the couch.

 

“How are you, Stiles?” Scott asked concern written on his face.

 

“I’m fine,” Stiles replied closing his eyes and leaning his head back, It listed to the side he looked at Derek through hooded eyes, “Whats on the docket oh high and mighty alpha?”

 

“I was thinking of a movie night,”

 

THe pack’s agreement could be heard around the room. Stiles knew there was probably something supernatural or other things that needed to be talked about. That they were just doing the movie night for his benefit but he was too tired to argue. They went back and forth between movies, several of them glazing Stiles way, expecting him to chime in. He just couldn't muster up the energy to give his input. He was honestly hoping for a movie that might put him to sleep. He hadn’t really been able to the past few days. The anxiety of his life coming to a close was to pressing. He had too much to do before he died.

 

“Did you figure out anything more with your will?” Stiles jumped at the sound of Peters' voice.

 

He hadn’t even noticed the other man sitting down next to him. Stiles reached down into his backpack, thankful he thought to pack his will draft with him when he left.

 

“Yeah, here you go.” Stiles handed it over to Peter.

 

That's when he clued into how quiet the room had gotten.

 

“Your really dying aren’t you?” Isaac asked his voice vulnerable.

 

“Yeah, I am. There really isn’t anything I can do so I have to prepare,” Stiles shrugged trying to play it off as if it wasn’t as big of a deal as it actually is.

 

“That's not true,” Scott shouted in outrage, “You could get surgery, remove the flowers!”

 

“What you can do that?” Erica asked eyes flitting around wildly.

 

“You want me to loose all of my emotions Scott?” Stiles asked, anger flaring, “You think I didn’t think about that already well I did and all my research comes out to losing my emotions. I didn’t know for sure when I had first researched this but it's true. Can we just watch a movie please, I’m tired and it would be nice to just hang out.”

 

Stiles shrunk back into the couch. He felt small and stupid. He didn’t know what to do to make his friends, his pack, feel better. He was going to die and that was a fact. Nothing could change that.

* * *

 

Two weeks have passed since Peter became Stiles attorney. To say Stiles was different the Peter expected was an understatement. While he would act out and would have childish moments Peter had never seen just how adult he was. They were spending more and more time together trying to get Stiles affairs in order. It gave Peter an outlook of just how much Stiles did for his father. Stiles even while dying did the majority of the cooking and cleaning. Stiles was the one grocery shopping and now that he was dying he was setting up doctors appointments for his dad for the next year. He got into contact with a therapist for his dad to go to once Stiles died. It was strange and Peter was angry at himself for not seeing this sooner. Stiles was responsible and took charge, someone Peter could have seen a relationship with. The younger man was smart as a whip and while Peter had always known Stiles was smart, Peter had assumed it was only book smarts. Stiles was so prepared.

 

The feeling had started to blossom but Peter had to tamp that down. Stiles was dying because he was in love with someone in the pack. Peter hadn’t yet been able to figure out who it was but he was trying. And now that he was spending more time with Stiles he couldn't see how someone couldn't love the boy. Stiles was amazing.

 

 _Fuck it was him_!

 

Peter looked down at his lap. It was him. It couldn't have been any other pack mate. They were coupled up and the only single ones were Derek and Lydia. Derek clearly wasn’t the object of Stiles feelings, Stiles treated him like a brother someone to annoy and that's it. Lydia was out to because Stiles had been very adamant about his feelings for her were done. Even going out of his way to apologize to the redhead for how his feelings came across. Even looking back on it, Stiles’s affections for Peter were obvious. Stiles always sat by Peter and whenever they had research sessions Stiles always cooked for him. Stiles never cooked for the pack even though he was by far the best cook but always cooked for Peter. His excuse for the pack and not cooking was because it was for family only but Peter wasn’t family. Stiles was always paying attention to Peter and just looking back at everything it made sense. Sure they were a lot more hidden then when Stiles likes Lydia but they were there in his actions and in his scent. Peter just didn’t want to notice it.

 

Peter looked down at his hands he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t love Stiles in the way the other boy must obviously love him. Peter’s feelings for the boy had just vaugly turned romantic. Peter now understood exactly what Stiles meant when Derek had sugusted that Stiles confesses. Stiles was right, Peter would have entered a relationship, tried to love the boy and failed because all he was seeing would be the spastic boy who was still a child. It was a complete coincidence that Stiles had been looking for a lawyer and decided to pick Peter. It was the only reason Peter got to even see the adult side of Stiles. He didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t a situation most people have been in. Even for werewolves, this was wierd and Peter didn’t know how to go about it. He didn’t even know if starting a relationship with Stiles would even fix things. Would Peter even actually want to date Stiles in the long run. He didn’t know if they would even mesh well. Although the past few weeks they have been getting along better but that might also be due to Stiles getting more and more tired, more and sicker.

 

Peter pinched his nose, letting out a frustrated sigh. He wasn’t going to say anything yet. Give a little more time to figure out his own feelings for the boy. Peter had to try and not let his judgment get clouded with the looming death of the boy over his head.

* * *

  


Peter was acting weird. Stiles didn’t know what he did. He would catch the other man looking at him with a strange expression on his face. The staring was unnerving. Peter also seemed to put a distance between them. It hurt but Stiles understood. He was dying what else did he expect Peter to do. They were able to draft up everything and so now Stiles had a will. Stiles was pretty sure Peter worked a little harder because everything was finished in two weeks and when Stiles had looked it up a will to go through all the processes took at least 3 weeks but usually around a month. Stiles appreciated it but that also meant he didn’t get to see Peter as much anymore.

  
Even though seeing him was painful being away was even more so. Stiles loved Peter so much and now that death was even closer he wanted to spend all of his time with Peter. He hadn’t actually seen the man except for twice this week when the pack hung out. And even then Peter just stared at him and barely verbally acknowledge him. It hurt, Stiles was so confused on the change. Sure with the whole will and assets, thing conversation got awkward but Stiles thought they were okay. Stiles had been careful to make sure that his love for Peter didn’t accidentally slip out. Stiles didn’t know what to do to fix things between them before he died. He didn't even know what he did wrong.

 

Stiles was shaken out of his thoughts to Isaac plopping on the couch beside him. The blonds lanky body basically blanketing him.

 

“Wow your freezing,” Isaac exclaimed.

 

Stiles shrugged, “Its drafty in here.”

 

“Have you eaten today Stiles?” Peter asked.

 

Stiles looked at him shocked. This was the first thing he has spoken to Stiles in what seems like too long. There was a look at Peter's face that Stiles couldn’t place. It was the same look that had been appearing for awhile but this time it looked to be a mix of concern?

 

“I tried, threw it up tho” Stiles responded shaking the thoughts out of his head.

 

It was dangerous to think like that. To read to far into Peter. He knew Peter was concerned for his pack mate but Stiles cant take it to mean more than it actually was. Peter did not like him in the romantic sense. Stiles cannot think deeper into his concern. He wasn’t going to read further into it. Peter’s concern was for that of a pack mate and not that of a romantic interest. His exhaustion must have been getting to his head. Peter barely talked to him this week. The older man did not like Stiles in that way. He just couldn’t. If he did Stiles wouldn’t be getting worse. He would be better, wouldn't he? Stiles starred as Peter left with a nod heading towards the kitchen. He couldn’t deal with this. He didn’t want to have any regrets but he also knew how guilty Peter would feel when Stiles inevitably died. He didn’t want his death to hurt more than it already would. Peter was such an amazing man and he had his life together. No matter what Stiles thought he was seeing it wasn’t true. Peter had his life together, he was a successful lawyer and probably was dating. Stiles wouldn't be surprised. Peter was handsome, successful, and super loyal. He didn’t deserve Peter. He wasn’t anywhere as successful or good looking as Peter. It wasn't gonna happen.

 

He violently coughed. The entire pack stopped what they were doing and surrounded him. He felt crowded and he couldn't breath. He tried to push them away but his hands were weak. He needed space.

 

“Don't crowd him. Let him breath!” Peter shouted.

 

Peter rubbed his back, “Come on get it out.”

 

A hard hit was in the middle of his back dislodged the flower in his throat landing on his lap but the coughing didn't stop. It kept going until two more flowers had left his lungs. Everything hurt and he listed towards Peter. His vision was still blurry and his chest felt like it was on fire. His breaths were shallow, he couldn't quite catch it. He couldn't hear the pack around him all he could hear the rattle in his lungs and the throbbing in his head. He felt a weight settle on his shoulder and warmth envelope him. He knew he should tune into everyone around him but everything hurt too much.

 

* * *

 

He must have fallen asleep at some point because everything was now quiet around him. He knew he was cuddled up against someone. Their heat making Stiles sweat slightly. Everything still hurt but it was less, muted. He blinked open, trying to blink the sleep away. He groaned quietly his pain making itself more evident when the person under him shifted slightly. Suddenly he was jerked upright, Scott appearing in his vision.

 

“Oh my God, your okay!” Scott shouted making Stiles wince.

 

His pain that had been dissipating came back full force. A whimper fell off his lips. He wanted it to stop he wanted to go to the warmth and comfort he had woken up to.

 

“Scott let go your hurting him,” Pet spoke from right next to Stiles.

 

Scott dropped him and he landed with a thud right into Peter's chest. Pain shooting throughout his body. He fell asleep on Peter. Shit. Pain eased, Stiles saw black lines creeping up Peters forearm where it was laying on Stiles' hand.

 

“Are you okay Stiles?” Peter asked, “Gave us quite a scare.”

 

All Stiles could do in response was nod. He knew he had to move but everything hurt and Peter was comfortable.

 

“Rest,” A gentle order came from Derek.

 

Stiles didn’t need to be told twice his eyes already drooping shut. He turned slightly more into Peter. He was going to take what he could get for now.

* * *

 

When came too he was in a bed. Stiles assumed it was Derek’s bed but he wasn’t entirely sure. It definitely wasn’t Stiles. It was much too big. The pain was less, now more of a dull throbbing in his chest. He felt like he couldn’t breathe properly but that was to me expected, he did have flowers obstructing his airways. He didn’t want to think about it. Stiles knew what it meant. It was the end of the line for him. Any day now he was going to keel over and die and there was nothing he could do.

Stiles thought he had accepted death but now being so close to it he was terrified. He didn’t know what to expect after he died and he wanted to do so much more. It wasn’t fair at all. Stiles was young and he shouldn’t be punished for loving someone. It was cruel. He felt tear’s prick the corner of his eyes but he refused to let them fall instead blinking open. Glancing around he was in fact in Derek’s loft in the Alphas bed. He didn’t want to move, he was still exhausted although he wasn’t sure how long he slept.

 

“How are you feeling Stiles?” Peter spoke his voice softer then Stiles had ever heard.

 

“Terrible,” Stiles rasped out, “Water?”  
  
Peter moved briefly out of his line of sight after giving Stiles a slight nod. Barely thirty seconds later he was back helping Stiles sit up and handing him a glass of water. Stiles took slow sips to assuage his irritated throat.

 

Peter’s behavior was odd. Peter was caring for him. Stiles obviously knew that Peter cared for him in a pack way but there was a significant reach from caring for someone and _caring for someone._ The connotations were different. Stiles wouldn’t have been one to guess Peter even had bedside manner. Although Stiles would have wanted no one else beside him while he felt terrible. Even Peter’s presence made him feel better no matter how cheesy that sounds. Although his presence also made him feel worse. It was a strange predicament. Stiles could also tell that something was on Peter’s mind but didn't want to ask or pry. Normally Stiles wouldn’t give a second thought to someone’s privacy when he wanted to know something but the looks he would sometimes see on Peters face made Stiles scared. He didn't want to think too much on it.

 

* * *

 

Peter was in love with Stiles. Sure he had accepted that he may have been developing feelings for the younger man but he definitely loved him. Looking back on the past six years on knowing Stiles, Peter had probably been falling for Stiles for years. Stiles has so many amazing qualities that were so wolf like and Peter had always been distracted by how childish he could act. Thinking more clearly Peter saw how instead of letting feelings grow he let them twist into annoyance and dislike. Peter is 37, he is a lot older than Stiles. Even though Peter still often had to correct himself that he wasn’t six years younger then he was. Everything with his coma confused him. So, in reality, he was mentally 31. But Peter loved Stiles. It wasn’t an all consuming love and it definitely wasn’t the love Stiles had for him. Stiles love had shown itself in the form of a disease. Peter knew what had to happen for someone to contract it, it wasn’t easy.

 

Peter didn’t know what to do next. Stiles passing out and coughing up so many flowers scared him. He didn’t want to lose the boy. That how he realized he loved Stiles. He wanted the chance of a relationship with him. The chance to see where it could go. A chance at a happy ending. All he had to do was tell Stiles. Peter knew it wouldn’t be the other way around. Not with the way Stiles had spoken about Peter in the early stages. Stiles was so selfless, willing to let Peter be happy, to not force him into a relationship. It made Peter realize just how well Stiles knew him. How well they knew each other. Peter was supposed to be smart how did he not notice that Stiles was the pack member he was closest to.

 

Peter had to figure out a way to tell Stiles. To get him to understand. Standing up from where he was sitting watching Stiles he made his way over to Derek.

 

“Can we talk for a second?” Peter asked, looking around at the other beta’s in the room, “In private.”

 

Derek nodded in response leading Peter out of the loft up to the roof. It was really the only place to have a private conversation. The wind blocking out the sound so prying ears couldn’t hear. As long as the ‘wolves talked low enough they wouldn’t be heard.

 

“What do you need Peter?” Derek questioned, an eyebrow raised.

 

“Stiles loves me, I’m the reason he even has hanaki disease,” Peter spilled onto his alpha, “And obviously when he first got it I didn’t love him. But spending time with him, helping him, I think I do love him. Or at least am starting to fall in love with him and I don't know how or if I should tell him. Would it even help? Would it be enough to stop it? Would it even save Stiles?”

 

Peter felt rung out. He needed his alpha. In this moment it wasn’t Peter and Derek, uncle and nephew. It was beta and alpha and Peter needed the guidance and reassurance of his alpha.

 

“Peter you have to tell him,” Derek started, gripping the back of Peter’s neck in comfort, “He deserves to know and I believe that it will cure him. And even if it doesn’t you will regret never telling him. I'll get the pack to leave you can do it when we get downstairs. The sooner the better.”

 

Peter nodded. Mulling it over in his head. He didn’t like laying himself bare, even telling Derek all his worries felt like too much. How was he supposed to tell Stiles that he loved him? Peter had never told anyone he loved them in the romantic sense and now it was life or death. What if Peter’s love couldn’t actually save Stiles? What if Peter was wrong?

 

“Stop overthinking, Stiles job. You are going to go down there and tell Stiles how you feel okay.” Derek didn’t leave room for argument instead he turned around and walked down stairs.

 

Peter walked downstairs a few minutes after Derek. When he walked back into the loft he saw that the only ones there were him and Stiles. Here was his moment. He swallowed down his anxiety, turning towards Stiles. Obviously, the younger man loved Peter back so why was he so scared.

 

“Hey, you okay? Derek rushed everyone out, saying you needed to speak to me?” Stiles spoke anxiously.

The overly sweet cloying smell of anxiety was unbearable, it smelling like baby’s milk that had been left out to long. It hurt for Peter to breath in, the scent sticking in his nose. He hated that scent on Stiles, it overpowered everything leaving Peter unable to smell anything but Stiles anxiety for hours.

 

“I do have something to tell you,” Peter’s voice coming out more confident then he felt, “I know its me.”

 

“Wha-”

 

“Before you say anything,” Peter interrupted, “I didn’t always know, I really only figured it out a day or two ago, when I figured out my own feelings. And today when you collapse, I realize I don't want to live without you. That I am falling in love with you and I don’t want you to die. I won't accept it, we deserve a chance!”

 

Peter’s voice got louder as he spoke. Anger evident. He was angry at the universe from trying to take away his chance to be with Stiles.

 

“Peter,” Stiles spoke softly, rotting apples emanating from the boy, defeat set in his shoulders, “You don’t mean that. You’re just saying that and that's exactly what I didn’t want to happen-”

 

Peter was getting ready to interrupt Stiles again when the boy started coughing. It was more violent than any of his other coughing fits previous. Peter rushed to his side, hitting him square in the back, trying to help him in any way he could. Petals came rushing out, it was as if he was throwing them up instead of coughing them up. Blood and petals spilled all over Stiles front and into his arms. Blood coming out of his nose. It seemed to never end and Peter was scared. What if this was the end. For minutes on end, Stiles got no reprieve. He just continued to throw up more and more flowers and petals.

 

As quickly as it started it stopped. Stiles' lungs didn’t rasp, there was no more coughing, everything stopped. Minutes passed between them in silence. Stiles catching his breath and Peter rubbing his back.

 

“I can breathe,” Stiles spoke quietly, “I haven't felt like I can breathe in weeks.”

 

Stiles looked up at Peter with awe on his face, “You were telling the truth.”

 

“Of course I was Stiles. Would I lie to you?” Peter spoke with mirth, he felt lighter, knowing that Stiles was fine.

 

“No, you wouldn’t” Stiles spoke back, his voice soft and reverent.

 

Not minding the blood and mess Peter swooped in giving Stiles a kiss. Glad that from here on out the only thing to steal Stiles breath would be him.


End file.
